


By the Fear of Unrequited Love

by antiquitea



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Feelings Realization, First Kiss, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Richard Hendricks is Bad at Feelings, SV Winter Exchange 2017, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 23:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13018611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiquitea/pseuds/antiquitea
Summary: Things don’t go back to normal. Why would they when instead of simply letting this revelation go Richard can hyper-fixate on it instead and let it take over his life?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [not_the_marimba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_the_marimba/gifts).



> A gift for [animesemplemcpherson](https://animesemplemcpherson.tumblr.com/) for the 2017 SV Winter Exchange! I hope that it's at least a little bit what you wanted. :)
> 
> Thanks to [emef](https://the-emef.tumblr.com/) for letting me bounce ideas off of you, and for some sage advice. Also, a big thank you to [carrot-gallery](http://carrot-gallery.tumblr.com/) for organizing this exchange! What a delight it was to be a part of.

Richard wishes that someone had told him. He’d spent so many months being completely oblivious that by the time that he had realized what had been happening, what had been going on, he worried that it was too late.

Things often befell him that way, so focused was he on his work, that anything remotely human had a tendency to fall to the wayside. It had happened with girlfriends (okay, using a plural was generous as there had been only one who had the title, and only scant others who had even barely participated in the barest definition of a relationship) when he was in college, it happened with friends, and apparently it was still happening with his love life.

Or lack thereof.

It hit him suddenly, the bad luck, on one of the rare days that Jared hadn’t been at the hostel. Still working, something to do with contracts at Bream-Hall that he’d offered to go finish up on behalf of Richard while he stayed, continued working on the new internet. But he, being the tremendously shitty friend that he was, had completely forgotten that Jared wasn’t there, and spent about ten minutes looking around the hostel for him, before Dinesh finally intervened.

“Dude, what are you looking for? You look even more panicked than usual,” he chimed, barely looking up from the code that he was writing.

“Jared. I’m looking for Jared,” Richard had replied, looking around the workroom frantically as if Jared would materialize.

“He went to Bream-Hall. With your approval. Like, two hours ago,” Dinesh said, finally glancing up. “Is your memory starting to go? I mean, we figured that would happen eventually but this seems way earlier than anticipated.”

“No. Of course. You’re right,” Richard said, rubbing his forehead. “It’s just - I forgot, okay? My memory isn’t starting ‘to go,’ Dinesh. God.”

“Honestly it’s like you’re in love with him,” Dinesh said, returning to his code.

Richard’s eyes went wide and feral, as he clasped his hands together and pressed his lips together tightly, craning his neck forward slightly. “Um. What?”

“Yeah. I mean, he was in love with you ages ago but now it seems that the tables have finally turned. Bound to happen, I suppose.”

“What? _What_?”

“Oh, please don’t tell me that this is news,” Dinesh sighed, sounding extremely exasperated. “You’re not aware that for almost two years that Jared was completely head over heels in love with you? I mean, the guy wasn’t exactly subtle about it.”

“What? No. No no no. That was just ... him being a good CFO. A friend. He wasn’t - oh my god, Dinesh. That’s. No. Stupid. C’mon.”

Richard hadn’t been entirely proud of how he had conducted himself in that moment with Dinesh, and after a few minutes of Dinesh listing basically every way that Jared had expressed his love for Richard without all but saying it, Richard had excused himself to his bedroom and had locked the door behind him, as if that would help keep the knowledge that Jared was in love with him at bay.

Unfortunately for Richard, that wasn’t the sort of thing that you could just lock out of your bedroom. It found its way under the space between the floor and the bottom of the door.

Now, after having spent the better part of an hour trying to work, all the while thinking “Jared was in love with you,” Richard’s lizard brain finally settles on one key word in that sentence.

_Was._

Before his mind has a chance to catch up with his motor functions, he’s out the door of his bedroom, heading back to the workroom, Dinesh still sitting there, the sounds of Gilfoyle moving about in the kitchen (loudly and probably out of spite) causing Dinesh to wince. Dinesh glances over at Richard as he enters the room and immediately sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Richard, can we please drop it? You gave me this deadline and if you’re going to -”

“What do you mean ‘was?’” Richard interrupts in a manner akin to that of a bull in a china shop.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘was?’” Richard asks again, punctuating the end of every word like its its own sentence. He grips the back of a chair on the other side of the table opposite Dinesh and leans forward slightly. “You said that Jared _was_ in love with me. What’s with the past tense?” He asks. “Did he, did he fall out of love with me?”

“Yeah,” Gilfoyle replies in a manner of fact way from the entry of the kitchen, beer in his hand. “Oh, this is fun. Is he just figuring it out now?” he asks, turning toward Dinesh.

“Yes,” Dinesh replies, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “And he’s being really fucking annoying about it.”

“Well, sorry if I’m ruining your day,” Richard says, throwing his hands up in the air. “But you just told me that Jared is in love with me, and that’s ... kind of a big deal, okay?”

“Was,” Gilfoyle corrects after a sip of his beer. “Do you not remember HooliCon?”

“Yes, but ... what does that have to do with anything?” Richard asks, whirling around to look at Gilfoyle.

“Unbelievable,” Dinesh mutters as Gilfoyle walks toward his work station.

“Are you seriously asking what that has to do with anything?” Gilfoyle asks as he sits down. “Richard, you were a grade A dick. A dick in general, but especially to Jared. Even he had his limits.”

“Why did nobody tell me?” Richard practically yells, arms wide before they fall to his side. “No one told me that Jared was in love with me, no one told me that he fell out of love with me. What the fuck!”

“We thought you knew!” Dinesh says. “We figured that you two had talked about it. That Jared was basically pining for you but that you knew and you were both just waiting for him to get over it. And then he did. Jesus Christ, Richard. Are you _that_ fucking oblivious?”

“Apparently!”

.     .     .

When Jared eventually returns to the hostel, a stack of papers grasped tightly like they’re precious cargo in his hands, Richard has spent at least five hours having an existential crisis about his affections. Affections that he no longer possesses according to Dinesh and Gilfoyle. He’s since moved on from Jared’s feelings to his own, which is always one of his least favourite things to think about. He’s not at all surprised to discover that he doesn’t know how to feel, doesn’t know what he should feel, and doesn’t know what he does feel.

As far as Richard is concerned, right now feelings equal bad.

“Where have you been?” Richard asks, looking up from his laptop when Jared enters the workroom.

“That meeting at Bream-Hall,” Jared replies, brow furrowed in confusion. “You asked me to go on your behalf. Sorry that it took a bit longer than anticipated. There was a lot of paperwork to go over.” He holds it aloft, offering Richard a smile. “And now I’m prepared to go over it with you. It shouldn’t take nearly as long now that we have some of the kinks ironed out.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s great,” Richard muttered, idly picking at the skin around the edges of his fingernails. He catches Dinesh’s glance before he turns back toward Jared. “Uh, could I talk to you? For a second. In, um, private?”

“Of course,” Jared replies, perhaps a bit too eagerly as he shrugs his jacket off and places it on the back of his chair.

Richard practically launches himself from his chair and scurries to the kitchen, Jared following closely behind him. Once Richard is certain they’re out of earshot of Dinesh and Gilfoyle (though perhaps it might’ve been better to adjourn to a room that wasn’t immediately next to where everyone works), he turns toward Jared. He’s been running over a list of things that he wants to ask, wants to say, since the revelation that Jared had feelings for him, but instead it comes out in his usual manner - awkward, so awkward.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were in love with me?” Richard blurts out, and watches the impact of every word on Jared’s face.

“Oh. Richard,” Jared says fondly after a moment. Richard expects Jared to take a few moments to gather his thoughts and respond, but it’s almost as if he’s been waiting for Richard to figure it out, because he doesn’t seem to need any time at all. “I didn’t want to burden you with my feelings when you were so clearly busy, so invested in your work. And besides, fraternization between co-workers so very rarely ends well. I’d subjected myself to that once before, I didn’t want to do that again. Furthermore, it wasn’t entirely clear that you reciprocated my feelings. I didn’t want to make any advances on you and compromise both our working relationship and our friendship.”

“So. You were in love with me,” Richard says, nodding his head slightly and crossing his arms over his chest. “And, uh, you’re not anymore.”

Jared shakes his head, almost sadly. “I’m afraid not,” he replies kindly. “Richard, your behaviour at HooliCon made me realize that I’d built up this idea of you in my mind. And for all of the good things that you are, a good partner would never be one of them.”

That stings Richard more than he thought possible, especially considering that it only been a few short hours previous that he had discovered that Jared had even harboured any feelings for him. Clearly, the look on his face is distressing enough that Jared sees fit to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, crouching ever so slightly so that he could look him right in the eye.

“Richard, are you unwell?” he asks.

“I’m - I’m fine,” Richard replies. “It’s just ... a lot to take in.”

“Well, if it makes things easier for you, just remember that I don’t have those feelings for you anymore,” Jared clarifies, placing a hand over his heart. “Our relationship is now strictly one of friendship. You do not have to worry about me pining over you any further.”

“Right,” Richard says with a slight nod of his head, though he looks at Jared’s large hand on his arm out of the corner of his eye. “Right. Got it.”

.     .     .

Things don’t go back to normal. Why would they when instead of simply letting this revelation go Richard can hyper-fixate on it instead and let it take over his life?

He certainly understands why Jared no longer has feelings for him. He’s not very easy to love, and he knows this because before Jared he’s sure that no one who wasn’t technically supposed to love him ever has. He also feels like an idiot for having never seen it. Looking back on many of their interactions, it was so clear. If he didn’t have tunnel vision, perhaps he would have seen how deeply Jared’s feelings for him went.

There’s also this strange nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he can’t place. He’s not sure what it is. It’s almost like he’s ... sad. Though he doesn’t know what he could possibly be sad about. Maybe that he missed his chance with Jared?

But he doesn’t like Jared. Not in that way.

At least, he doesn’t think that he does.

Richard is, quite frankly, embarrassed by how much time he spends trying to figure out what exactly it is that resides in the pit of his stomach. It’s different than his usual anxiety, and a part of his brain screams at him that he knows what it is, why can’t he just admit it to himself.

Because he doesn’t like feeling things, that’s why. Shut up, brain.

He thinks how wonderful it would be to be loved by Jared, in the present tense. If Jared hadn’t stopped loving him, though honestly it’s probably best that he did. Richard would be no good for him. But Jared’s such a good colleague, a great friend, takes care of him because he can’t take care of himself. He imagines that having Jared as a partner would be much the same. But then again, Richard should know how to take care of himself, he’s a grown ass adult (allegedly). And also … he doesn’t like Jared in that way.

Then why, he wonders as he fucks up his fourth line of code in as many seconds, can he just not seem to be able to stop thinking about him?

Richard stands from his desk in his bedroom and makes his way out to the kitchen to pour himself another coffee, encountering no one else along the way because it’s likely some ungodly hour of the night and he’s afraid to look at the clock.

 _Okay,_ he rationalizes as he grabs the carafe of coffee. _So I might be in love with Jared approximately three months too late. I’m not going to do anything about it. He doesn’t feel that way anymore. And telling him as much would just be incredibly mean spirited. This is just a phase. It’ll go away._

As Richard sips the coffee, which he realizes has gone cold and he scrunches up his nose in response, it dawns on him that this might simply be his typical reaction to being informed that he can’t have something.

Richard knows that on the long list of terrible tendencies and qualities that he should work on is his possessiveness. Everything that’s ever been his, for however long a time, he has been unable to relinquish his hold on it. And when he sets his sights on something and truly wants it, he feels as though he has to have it.

Is that all this is? Jared is suddenly no longer an option, and being told that is making Richard want him?

He wishes that he wasn’t like this, but he, quite regrettably, is.

_This is just a phase. It’ll go away._

.     .     .

Richard passes by the bathroom and he finds that the door is slightly ajar, but clearly there is someone in there. He grabs the doorknob, meaning to close it, but instead pokes his head in, beginning to ask “Hey, do you want me to close this?” But instead all that comes out of his mouth is “Hey, do you -” before his eyes settle on Jared.

Jared appears to be freshening up, smoothing down a stray hair as he brushes his teeth. Richard awkwardly stands in the doorway, hand still on the doorknob, watching Jared for a moment before he realizes that he’s being tremendously creepy and backing out of the bathroom.

“Oh, if you need to get in here I’m just about done,” Jared says, after spitting toothpaste into the sink and rinsing his mouth.

“Yeah. Uh. Thanks,” Richard says, rocking back and forth on his heels, shoving his hands in his front pockets. “You, uh, going somewhere?”

“I am actually,” Jared says, smiling and turning toward Richard. “I hope that’s okay?”

“What? Of course it is. You’re not on the clock,” Richard says with a shrug. “You don’t have to … ask me.”

Jared continues to smile and busies himself with clearing his things from the bathroom counter, Richard taking a step into the bathroom. Why precisely, he doesn’t know. “Are you, um, going out?”

“I do have a date tonight, yes,” Jared replies, and the instant he says it Richard’s skin feels hot and tight.

“Oh,” Richard says, and it comes out much more sullenly than he means to. “That’s … good. That’s good. Hey, good for you, Jared.” He huffs out a force laughed. “Good thing you’re not hung up on me anymore, huh?” Jared makes a face and Richard immediately shakes his head. “That, uh, that was weird. I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand. Trying to diffuse the situation with humour,” Jared says with a fond smile, reaching out and placing a hand on Richard’s shoulder. “It’s kind of you to say really. I can assure you that any romantic feelings I’ve had for you are no longer affecting my romantic life, Richard.”

_Great._

Jared goes out on his date, and Richard stays up late, simultaneously working on code and listening for the sound of a door opening. Although, Jared has that nice condo of his, it would quite frankly be foolish of him to being his date home when they can have some privacy. Especially from Richard who is definitely not handling any of this remotely well for some reason.

It’s so late that it’s morning when Richard eventually passes out at his desk, jealousy residing in the pit of his stomach when he realizes that Jared never came back.


	2. Chapter 2

Richard Hendricks’ realization that he might actually be in love with Jared Dunn comes approximately three weeks after he discovered that Jared had, in one point in time, loved him.

Which is exceptionally atrocious timing. Even for Richard.

Also, the thought that it was only a phase seems laughable now, as Richard has spent far too many nights sleepless both, a) wondering what he should do about this, and b) jerking off and thinking about Jared.

He’s pretty sure that this is some manner of Human Resources nightmare.

They’re all sitting at their workstations, the sounds of fans in laptops whirring, fingers tapping away at keys, the only noises audible in the room. During a moment in which Richard pushes himself away from the desk for a moment, to scan a line of code, he finds himself glancing over at Jared, who is so focused on his work that he doesn’t seem to notice Richard looking at him.

And perhaps that’s for the best.

He thinks that maybe Jared has gotten a new haircut, or starting doing something new with his hair. But whatever it is that he’s doing, Richard finds that he likes it. Not that how his hair looked before was bad, this is just … different. It’s still parted the same way, but doesn’t look like he’s tried to plaster it to his head. It looks ... almost wavy, curling at the ends. Jared’s hair also looks incredibly soft. Richard resists the urge to reach out and touch it. That’s probably not a thing that you’re supposed to do to your employees.

Richard’s eyes sweep down, and while looking at Jared’s face he wishes that he wasn’t so engrossed in his work, because he can barely see those large blue eyes of his. Eyes that have looked at him so kindly, eyes that have searched his for answers that he didn’t entirely know how to give.

From his eyes, his gaze sweeps over Jared’s nose, mouth, lips slightly parted as they sometimes are when he’s deep in thought and not so guarded. Down over the pale column on that long throat, exposed just slightly behind his collared shirt, startlingly not fully buttoned up. Richard still loathes the article of clothing for obstructing his view, thinking about how sharp Jared’s collarbones must be.

It isn’t until his eyes settle on Jared’s hands, obscenely large, long and delicate fingers gently striking the keys on his keyboard, thinking about how amazing it would feel to have them wrapped around him, that Richard startles himself out of his cataloging of every inch of Jared’s body, with a noise that also startles everyone around him.

“Fuck, what was that?” Dinesh asks, as Richard rubs his hands over his face.

“Nothing. Nothing,” Richard insists in a manner that suggests that it was in fact something. “Was just a million miles away.”

“Richard, are you alright?” Jared asks in that concerned way with such familiarity that Richard hadn’t realized he was longing for it until he heard it.

“Yes. Fine. I swear,” he replies as he moves to stand up. “I’ve just got to - um. Yeah.”

Richard grabs his hoodie and pulls it on as makes his way out through the kitchen and out the door to the backyard. The air is cold enough that when it hits his eyes it makes them water, and he furiously rubs at them, and curses himself for crying, even it isn’t his fault.

The crying might not be his fault, but the way he’s conducting himself certainly is. He hasn’t been able to think entirely straight since Jared’s revelation, and now he fears that he’s returning those feelings, but all too late. He’s missed his chance, if he’s ever had one, and mourning the loss of something that he never had.

And he can’t tell if it’s something that he even truly wanted, or something that he merely wants now that he can’t have it.

It’s not as if it’s some _thing_ , it’s some _one_. Richard, as much as he wants to possess the things that he wants entirely, wouldn’t dare sully more of Jared than he already had. He’s made him compromise so much of himself already, he wouldn’t dare subject him to his affections when he’s worked so hard to move past his own feelings.

“Richard.”

“Jesus!” he yells, whirling around and coming face to face with Jared who is both the last and only person that he wants to see right now.

“Richard, are - you crying?” Jared asks, brow furrowed and ducking his head down.

“No,” Richard answers, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean. Kinda. But it’s just ... the air. That’s all. Not crying.”

“It is a few degrees cooler than usual,” Jared says, glancing up at the sky for some reason that Richard can’t possibly ascertain. “Have you considered using eye drops? The watering in your eyes is a result of the cold air evaporating the moisture from the top layer of your cornea, which is probably exaggerating a problem that you already have. And looking at a screen all day would -”

“You’re right. You’re right,” Richard interrupts, a hand on his hip as he sweeps his hand in a gesture conveying that he agrees. “I’ll uh … start using some eye drops. Problem solved. No more watery eyes for me. Thank you, Jared.”

“Oh,” Jared says, looking equal parts shocked and pleased. “Well. I’m happy to help, Richard.”

Richard’s bottom teeth bite their way into his top lip, which he’s sure makes him look like some manner of feral weasel (god, what did Jared ever see in him), while Jared regards him quietly. He feels like he should say something. _Anything._

 _God, Richard. Just say words._ Say them _. This is_ Jared _. He’s your colleague. He’s your_ friend _. Just open your mouth and do … words._

“Listen -”

“You’re not alright.”

Jared knows him so incredibly well.

“No, Jared. No, I’m not.”

Jared looks concerned in a way that Richard doesn’t recall having seen before. His brow is furrowed and his eyes look pained. Richard would do anything to have him never look that way again. “This is about me having been in love with you, isn’t it?” Jared asks.

“Yes,” Richard replies, and it comes out in a long, drawn out sigh, and his shoulders suddenly drop and feel immensely less tense than moments before.

“Oh dear,” Jared says softly, fingers gently touching his breastbone. “Richard, I am so incredibly sorry that I’ve put you in an awkward position by revealing that I once had feelings for you. I’m sure that it’s been increasingly difficult for you to work with me, knowing that I had one time may have had improper thoughts about you, about us.”

“What? No. No! That’s not it - that’s not it at all. Jared.” Richard takes a deep breath and shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, unable to maintain eye contact any longer. “It’s just … well. I didn’t think it bothered me. And it didn’t. At least … not in that way. In the way that you’re thinking. It’s … well, I’d never thought about it. And knowing now that you felt that way I feel … stupid. Stupid that I didn’t see it. Stupid that I … missed out on it, y’know?”

“Missed out on it?” Jared asks, eyebrows drawn together. “Richard, are you saying -”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Richard practically mumbles, chin planted in his chest. “You know that I am tremendously terrible at letting go of basically anything. Even if it’s something that I never really had. Like Winnie and that stupid thing I did at HooliCon. She and I barely dated and I couldn’t just _let it go_ . I had to sabotage her boyfriend’s _stupid_ fucking workstation.”

Richard sighs, knowing that he’s rambling, but finally finds the courage to look up at Jared. And oh god - his _face_. He’s not looking at Richard in a pitying manner. No, he’s looking at him with understanding, but also wonder.

“I … started thinking about what it would be like to be in love with you like you were with me. And it just seemed … nice. You’re so nice. You’re so good. And I -” Richard pauses, taking a tentative step closer, and his heart hammers quickly in his chest when Jared doesn’t move. “And I don’t deserve even an iota of affection from someone like you when I’m someone like me.”

“Oh. _Richard_.”

“It’s a moot point,” Richard adds. “I know. You … don’t feel that way about me anymore. I wouldn’t want you to. And I wouldn’t even for a second want to subject you to my curiosity simply because I’m _jealous_ that I can’t have you. Especially considering it wasn’t even on my radar until a few weeks ago.”

“Richard,” Jared says, his voice so much lower than Richard is used to hearing. “I - I don’t know what to say. I never in my wildest fantasies imagined you returning my affections.”

“I don’t even know if I do,” Richard says, watching as Jared swallows hard, watching as his adam’s apple bobs in the middle of his throat. “I think it might just be the part of me that wants you because I can’t have you anymore.”

“ _Want_ me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Richard doesn’t remember having ever stood this close to Jared before. The tips of their shoes are practically touching, and Richard shuffles his feet slightly and looks down at them. Anywhere but at Jared’s face, frightened what he might find there. When he finally glances back up Jared is looking down at him and _oh_. How many have been on the receiving end of that look and melted just as Richard feels that he is?

“Jared -”

“I told myself that I didn’t,” Jared says, the tips of his fingers ghosting delicately over Richard’s, as if he means to grab them. He doesn’t, and instead just lets them continue barely touching, and Richard thinks that he might hyperventilate. _Just touch me already._ “That I didn’t still have those feelings for you. Richard, I couldn’t. It was driving me mad. It wasn’t good for me. It wouldn’t have been good for you. But to hear you now, talking like this, even if you think your intentions aren’t entirely pure … it’s just bringing up those feelings again. Ones that I’ve tried to push down for so long. Ones that I’ve wanted to act upon but never did.”

“Holy fuck,” Richard breathes, and he definitely meant to think it, not say it. But one of Jared’s hands, one of his obscenely large hands, his cupping along his jaw, thumb brushing over his stubbled cheek. “Jared, if you don’t want me anymore, that’s okay. Really, it is. I just … I had to tell you. Don’t let yourself be swayed just because of me. Please. We both know that I’m no good for you.”

“You’re going to hurt me, Richard Hendricks,” Jared whispers. “But I find that I truly don’t care. Not if it means that I get to taste you on the tip of my tongue for even the barest of moments.”

Richard whines. He definitely whines. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps. “I want to be good. I want to be good for you. I want to be what you deserve. You deserve the best, Jared. But I can’t - I don’t think that I can be that for you. But … I think I want to be. I’m not sure that’s good enough, though.”

“Richard,” Jared says softly, tilting his head down slightly, strands of his hair falling over his forehead, as he considers the sight in front of him. Richard isn’t sure it’s a particularly great one.

He so desperately wants to reach up and brush those stray locks of hair away from Jared’s brow, but he feels frozen where he stands, gazing dumbly up at Jared’s face. Richard parts his lips, anticipating a kiss that he’s not entirely sure he’ll receive, also unable to keep breathing through just his nose because he’s sure that he _is in fact_ hyperventilating now.

“Let me try,” Richard says desperately, his hands suddenly clutching at the hem of Jared’s sweater, attempting to pull him closer. “Please. Let me try to be good. To be good for you. I can do it. I can try. I don’t - I don’t _want_ to hurt you. I know I’m no good, but for you -”

Richard swallows the rest of his sentence as Jared sweeps his lips across his. It’s so soft, so gentle at first, as if Jared is testing the stormy seas of Richard’s mouth. It’s only after Richard responds, angling his head just a little bit higher, pressing into Jared’s kiss, affirming that yes, this is exactly what he wants, that Jared kisses him a little harder. Richard’s eyelids flutter closed, and he makes a soft, pleased noise from behind his lips, Jared’s thumb brushing along his chin.

He doesn’t know what he thought kissing Jared might be like, but he finds that it’s unlike anything that he ever could’ve possibly imagined. It’s so gentle, so insistent at the same time. Tender lips met with the intent of someone who knows exactly what they want.

Jared, inexplicably, seems to want Richard.

When Jared finally draws back, Richard chases his mouth, eyes still closed. He doesn’t know what he wants beyond more of kissing Jared. But that’s a start. He wishes that he could physically separate his desires from his jealousy - does he want this because he cares for Jared, or does he want this because his damn lizard brain can’t seem to grasp the concept that just because he can’t have something anymore doesn’t mean that he should want it.

“Was that okay?” Jared asks softly, breaking Richard’s train of thought, thumb brushing along his earlobe.

“ _Yes_ ,” Richard replies, breathless and thankful for the distraction. “Yeah. It was … good. Nice. Really good, actually. Was it, uh, everything that you thought it might be?”

Jared smiles fondly, his eyes torn between looking into Richard’s and his lips. “You are a far better kisser than I had anticipated.”

“I’d be hurt if that wasn’t an entirely accurate assumption.”

Jared laughs, and oh my god, it’s a wonderful sound and Richard wants to hear it more often. How had he never realized how amazing Jared’s laugh is? He leans his forehead against Richard’s and closes his eyes, and Richard takes a page from him and allows himself to do the same.

“As wonderful as standing outside in the cold here with you is, perhaps we should venture back inside?” Jared asks. “Further to that, it’ll be less awkward for Dinesh and Gilfoyle to stand in the window watching us?”

“ _What_? Fucking -”

Richard whirls around to find Dinesh and Gilfoyle standing at the back door, not even making an attempt to hide their presence. Dinesh has a dopey smile on his face which Richard can’t tell if it’s genuinely pleased or merely awkward and forced, and Gilfoyle simply nods solemnly and that’s what qualifies as approval from him.

“To be fair, Richard, none of this was exactly a secret,” Jared says, and the sound of his voice pulls Richard from staring daggers at Dinesh and Gilfoyle to looking up at him. “They knew about my feelings for you, and you haven’t exactly been circumspect in the past few weeks.”

“You _knew_?” Richard asks, slightly incredulous. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought it hasty to assume,” Jared replies. “You’re not upset with me, are you, Richard?”

“No,” Richard answers, shaking his head a little. “I just wish that you had said something.”

“In all fairness, Richard, you could’ve said something as well,” Jared says, smiling kindly. “I thought that I had done my fair share of speaking on the matter of feelings. And they’re weren’t mine to speak of - they were yours.”

“Yeah. Well,” Richard says with a shrug and a half-hearted chuckle. He ignores the sounds of Dinesh and Gilfoyle arguing just beyond the back door, and keeps his attention focused on Jared. “So, uh, what happens now?”

“Well, Richard,” Jared begins, reaching up and harding a hand through Richard’s hair. “You said that you wanted to try, to try and be good, to try and be what you think that I deserve. What do you say? Do you want to? Do you want to … try?”

Richard doesn’t even need to give it a moment’s thought. “Yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

Relationships, of any kind, tend to not come particularly easy to Richard.. Even friendships were things that blossomed over time, over shared experiences, and an abundance of time spent together, to it would just sort of dawn on Richard that yes, this person was his friend and probably had been for a few years now. His relationship with his parents was good, if not a little strained at times because he was a terrible son who never called, and there had been the probably more-frequent-than-it-should-have-been occasion where his parents discovered something about him because he, or Pied Piper, was in the news.

Romantic relationships were an entirely different beast, one that he’d only encountered a few times and very briefly. There’d been the requisite girlfriend in college, though that seemed to barely count, and aside from going on a few dates with a handful of women that didn’t particularly lead anywhere, Richard was severely inexperienced.

Richard hadn’t been in any relationship so committed in all of his life, and certainly not one with a man. It simply wasn’t something that he’d thought of. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been attracted to men, it simply hadn’t seemed like a viable option, or one that he’d pursued.

But dating Jared didn’t feel like a challenge, it felt remarkably easy, no matter how much Richard fussed about fucking everything up. Not much of their relationship had truly changed, all told. There was the addition of kissing, cuddling on the couch after a long day, and rutting against one another like two sex starved teenagers in the garage in the middle of the day, but other than that …

Richard was trying his best to be good, to be the kind of person that Jared deserved to have in his life. Jared’s declaration that Richard would hurt him lingered, not in a way that festered in his mind and made him spiteful, but in a way that he so badly wanted to prove them both wrong.

He knew that he was capable of being good for Jared, of being good for both of them, he just had to try.

.     .     .

Jared’s bed, his actual bed at his condo, not the cot that he sleeps on in the garage most nights, is so incredibly soft Richard discovers. So are the towels that he keeps on hand - fluffy and warm, and not at all the soggy, threadbare things that are “towels” only in the loosest sense that they have back at the hostel.

He discovers both of these things after his and Jared’s proper third date.

They had a difficult time separating what constituted an actual date from what made up the majority of their lives, because even before it had become “a thing” they had spent so much of their time together. The lines blurred, until Jared made it clear that he wanted to do actual date things - go out for dinner, to see shows and plays, to create a very distinct line between their working relationship and their romantic one. Richard had never dated anyone long enough to do things beyond go out to dinner and have (at worst) disappointing and (at best) mediocre sex. The idea of actually “dating” someone and being out in public with them was an entirely new concept.

On their third date they go to see a play that Jared had mentioned in passing weeks before he and Richard even became “a thing.” When Richard purchased tickets and suggested it to Jared he thought that he might cry he seemed so incredibly touched. Richard had never been to a play before, aside from a couple of student productions at Stanford nearly a decade previous. He had no idea how to dress, but thankfully Jared was there to help him select what passed for dressed up enough to attend an actual theatre production without feeling like a complete asshole.

After the play they’d gone back to Jared’s condo, where he only slept some of the time, preferring to stay at the hostel out of solidarity. Jared had removed each article of Richard’s clothing with the same care which he had employed when helping him pick them out earlier that night. He worked his way backwards, until Richard was seated on the edge of his bed, legs thrown over his shoulders as he knelt on the floor, tongue flat against the underside of Richard’s cock. Jared wrenched from Richard sounds that he didn’t think he’d ever made before.

Following Jared’s extremely thorough instructions, Richard’s fingers dragged an orgasm of equally matched intensity from Jared.

He’s pretty sure he’s never made anyone come before. He’s not arrogant enough to think that any of the women he’d ever bedded were entirely satisfied.

When Richard wakes up the following morning, Jared is still curled around him, face pressed against his shoulder, one arm draped over his hip and the other under his pillow. He always wondered how people could sleep so close together - didn’t they get pins and needles in their arms, didn’t they get too warm? Jared is warm, but it’s an all encompassing warmth that he is wrapped up in, and it feels so wonderful.

It feels nice.

Richard isn’t accustomed to having nice things. Not lately. Not when everything else in his life seemingly goes to shit within the blink of an eye.

He shifts slightly, and Jared makes a soft noise, and Richard is about to apologize for waking him up, but then Jared’s lips are brushing lazily against the nape of his neck. Richard sighs, closing his eyes and revelling in the feeling of Jared’s hand moving over his hip and down to his thigh, seemingly mapping the planes of his body.

“I like this,” Jared murmurs against Richard’s skin. “Waking up next to you. It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Richard rasps, his voice rough with sleep. “I like it too.”

.     .     .

Richard discovers that Dinesh and Gilfoyle currently have a pool going - how long will it take before he fucks up whatever it is that he has with Jared. He’d be upset if he didn’t also think that it was a totally valid thing to put money on.

Dinesh seems to have Richard fucking it all up within a few weeks, while Gilfoyle seems to be playing the long game - the long game being two months.

“You’ll try your hardest,” Gilfoyle says, as Richard looks over his shoulder at the spreadsheet on his monitor. “But ultimately, yeah, you’re going to do something stupid.”

“Since when does stupid constitute ‘ruining things’ or breaking up?” Richard asks, standing up straight and folding his arms across his chest.

“Since you’re involved,” Dinesh replies from his workstation across the room.

“I am _not_ going to fuck this up.”

.     .     .

“Dinesh and Gilfoyle think I’m going to fuck this up.”

They’re in Jared’s condo, where Richard now realizes that they spend quite a bit of time when they’re not working. There’s a lot of perks, one of them certainly being privacy, another being Jared’s place is definitely the kind of place where a grownup lives. Richard hasn’t felt like a grownup his entire adult life, but Jared makes him feel like perhaps it’s a possibility.

In Jared’s bed, Richard is burrowed against Jared’s side, head pillowed against Jared’s chest as Jared’s fingers slide through his curls. It’s not something that he thought he would ever enjoy, but having Jared’s long and nimble fingers carding through his hair, gently scraping at his scalp, is Richard’s new favourite thing, and he’s not at all embarrassed about how often he guides Jared’s wrist and directs his hand to his head.

“You do have a tendency to botch and bungle most things,” Jared says idly, his gaze moving from the ceiling to Richard. “But I can assure you, I don’t think that you are going to with this.”

Richard cranes his neck, glancing up at Jared. “You said when you first kissed me that I was going to hurt you. Do you still believe that?”

Jared shakes his head. “No. I don’t, Richard. I was, admittedly, terrified of kissing you. Simply because I had wanted it for so long. The kissing and everything else, that is. But you have been, and are, a remarkably considerate and thoughtful partner. I … had you pegged all wrong. And I’m sorry for that.”

“You were, uh, right to think it,” Richard says, fingers tracing idle patterns along Jared’s arm. “I don’t have the greatest track record. With anything. But especially relationships.”

“You can always start new records.”

“That plural implies that I want to do this more than once.”

“Oh, Richard. I didn’t mean to -”

“I know that you didn’t,” Richard says, nuzzling at Jared’s chin with his nose. “I just … this is okay, yeah? We’re doing all right? You’re not … you’re not gonna leave?”

Jared smiles fondly and brushes his lips along Richard’s hairline. “Yes, Richard. We’re doing all right. And I’m not going anywhere.”

.     .     .

Dinesh and Gilfoyle both lose in the How Long Will it Take Richard to Fuck Up office pool, of which there are only two people involved. Richard insists that since they both lost, and they were betting against him, that he should be the one to receive the money.

They begrudgingly part with their funds.

.     .     .

It just comes out one day, so quickly, tumbles past his lips before he realizes that he’s saying it. He hadn’t really thought about saying it, he wasn’t even really sure that he thought it, felt it, but given that it seems so natural he thinks that maybe he’d been thinking it, feeling it for a very long time.

They’re on Jared’s couch, half watching the documentary on kingfishers that’s on the television, half making out, Richard astride Jared’s thighs, with no regard for the brightly coloured birds on the screen. Jared is plying at Richard’s mouth with his tongue, practically lapping up the sounds that he makes. Richard thinks they’re terrible and embarrassing, too high-pitched, but Jared apparently loves them, he tells Richard as much.

“I love the sounds that you make,” he murmurs against Richard’s lips.

“I love _you_.”

Richard holds his breath. He hadn’t meant to say it. He’s sure that Jared will inform him, most eloquently, that it’s far too soon, that they’ve only been dating for a few months, that he couldn’t possibly feel that way just yet.

It feels as if an eternity stretches between them. But it’s not even three second before Jared is murmuring, his voice tight, “Richard. I love you too.”

.     .     .

Richard hates how long it took him. Hates that he wasted so much time. He could’ve had this - _all of this_ \- so much sooner. How could he not have seen it, the way that Jared looked at him? The way that Jared spoke to him? He was so blind for so long.

He wanted this. It wasn’t because he couldn’t have it, it was because he wanted it.

But it doesn’t keep him from being possessive, from wanting to keep Jared and not let anyone else ever have him, nothing probably will. And it doesn’t stop him from biting into the flesh of Jared’s hip, rasping, “Mine, _mine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://antiquitea.tumblr.com) where I yell in my tags a lot about how angry attractive boys make me.


End file.
